Authors: Tracy St John
“Good girl. You may come now.”
His hand moved around front as he spoke, giving my clit a pinch. I started up screaming again, jerking hard as climax rumbled through my bely, sending ripples into my chest, making my fingers and toes tingle and my hair stand on end. I flailed wildly, Dan’s grip on the back of my neck the only thing that kept me from rocketing straight up into the black velvet sky.
“Nice, baby,” he praised me after I’d settled down a bit. He puled his cock free of my stil trembling slit and repositioned to enter my house through the back door.
Very nice indeed.
Dan pressed in, and I warbled a sigh as my tightest orifice stretched to receive him. He’d given me no foreplay back there, and there was a bit of an ache, but I’m something of a pain slut. With the right mindset, a little bit of discomfort goes a long way for firing up my libido. Right now, being slung over a motorcycle seat, pinned helpless and made to take my man the way he loves it was turning pain into a whole lotta pleasure. It was more intense sensation than hurt.
And despite being in a very macho state of arousal, Dan moved carefuly. His slide in was steady but slow. As he made me take his entire length, my legs quaked in reaction. Oh heck, I was going to come again.
“Nice and tight and hot, baby girl,” he said, his deep voice breathy. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” Is it any wonder that I love this man?
His strength and rhythm weren’t nearly as violent as when he’d taken my other passage, but with anal pleasure, a little goes a long way. That deeper, almost G-spot sensation of excitement that I get from rear entry was coiling my insides up again. “Sir,” I groaned.
“Getting close again, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Al right then. I’l tel you when.”
His groin slap-slapped against my buttocks, and he let go of my neck to spread my cheeks apart so he could see our intimate joining. Imagining how it looked from his point of view made my insides tighter stil. Is there any more profound way to give yourself to a man? I sure couldn’t think of one, and my thoughts were al twisty-tied with submissive delight as he took me.
Dan moved harder and faster as my body adjusted to the intrusion and softened to his need. His hands closed over my hips, holding me stil for his quickening thrusts. Hot, molten eagerness expanded my bely, threatened to rip it open. Throaty moans announced my growing craving for release. Oh yeah. Oh yeah.
“Pretty soon, baby. Nearly there,” Dan gasped.
Sweet yearning suffused my body, fed by the sensation of him filing me to bursting. The rapid tattoo of flesh meeting flesh, the musky scent of our shared excitement, the sloppy wet sounds we made, al that added to the poignant demands of our bodies. A tremor of pure, physical glee shot through my loins. Orgasm was right on top of me, refusing to be denied. Dan’s rhythm suddenly went away, replaced by erratic jerks.
“Now, Brandilynn!” he shouted, and I felt him pulse within me.
My climax tore loose from its fractured chains, clawing and tearing through me, ravaging me from the inside. My shriek joined Dan’s cries, ringing wildly through the air. We yeled fit to startle the living, feeding on each other’s ecstasy as we bucked against one another. Heaven help me, I realy do love that man.
Time passed, marked by our gasps which rang out the seconds. In times of extreme emotion our spirits remember the involuntary functions of our shed physical bodies, and we know again what it feels like to breathe and have our hearts thundering in our chests.
Except for our heaving lungs we were stil for a little while, me hanging over a Harley and Dan standing between my legs as the last convulsions of pleasure faded. Even after we grew silent we stayed put, Dan’s hand warm on my back as he gently rubbed lax muscles. The nearby traffic luled me, and had I been capable of dozing off, I would have. Unfortunately, the dead never sleep.
At last, my sweetie puled free of me. I turned around and perched myself on the motorcycle, sitting on it sidesaddle. Dan clothed his gorgeous self with his usual uniform of khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. I sighed. Some things should never be covered.
He grinned at me, the corners of his eyes creasing pleasantly. He was like a kid who’d cleaned out the cookie jar. A rough, rugged man may not be capable of adorableness, but Dan was making a pretty good try.
“Boy, what got your motor running?” I asked. Now that the sex was over we were back on equal footing, and I could be as demanding as my temperament declares.
He shrugged. “You know I’m always glad to see you.”
I stroked my long, loose hair into obedience. The careful updo had disappeared with my dress. “Tristan’s going to be cranky. He wanted you to come to him right away. Did you know Penny died again?”
Dan paled and shook his head. “Ah hel – sorry, I mean heck. What happened?”
I smiled to let him know his apology for using profanity around me was accepted. “Tainted blood. Tristan wants you on the case.” He nodded. “The feds haven’t done much about the pouch tamperings. Para justice always ends up on the bottom of the funding ladder.” I nodded at the Beasts’ lair. “Anything I need to know before stepping into the animal den there?”
Dan’s arms went around me, and I snuggled against his chest, wishing he wasn’t wearing that darned shirt. “Listen out for anything major like smuggling or planned hits. Report any crimes planned to me or Tristan besides colecting protection money and that kind of smal time trash. And keep your head down. They’ve got a male witch they cal Hazel who’s in and out of here.” I snorted. “Witch Hazel?”
He chuckled. “They’re not very original. Everyone goes by a nickname. Hazel owns the local strip club, which is where he is right now. Avoid him and when possible stay close to the club’s leader who goes by ‘C.K.’ If anything goes down, it’s his cal.” He sighed and released me, stepping back. “I don’t expect you to find anything. This guy keeps whatever major stuff he’s got happening realy quiet. These last few weeks have been one long goose chase.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to them?” I suggested. “Al bluster, no real crime?”
“Don’t you believe it for a second. C.K. may be in a smal town, but he’s not smal time. I can tel.”
Dan had gone to prison, so he has more insight into the criminal mind than most. I let the inference to his jail time slide. He doesn’t like to be reminded that he once committed a crime totaly against his nature. “Okay. C.K. isn’t much of a nickname,” I mused.
Dan gave me a non-humorous smile. “It’s short for ‘cop kiler’. The Beasts accept he took an officer out early in his career, but nothing’s ever been proven. The guy might not look terribly impressive, but underestimating him is definitely a no-no.”
“Oh yeah? What’s he look like?”
“He’s a werehog. Short and ugly. Just look for the little pig everyone kowtows to.”
I suddenly had a vision of the Big Bad Wolf caling, ‘Little pig, little pig, let me in.’ I knew Dan wanted me to take this seriously, but I couldn’t help but snicker a tiny bit. At his glare, I immediately wiped my expression clear of amusement. “Short, ugly little pig. Got it.”
“Okay. I’d better get going.” He leaned down to give me a kiss.
“See you later.”
“And watch out for the witch.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t worry about that. I know how dangerous they are.”
Dan nodded. He knows how careful I am around witches, having been on the wrong end of a wand. Then he was gone.
I was stil naked. With no other ghosts or Augustus around to see me it was no big deal, but I decided to get into the spirit of things. I conjured myself a formfitting black leather mini-dress and thigh-high boots. A spike-studded colar joined the ensemble, and I went to the black painted window, the one with the snarling hog, and checked myself out in the reflection aided by the nearby streetlight. I admit I looked more Domme than submissive, but since I wasn’t entering a BDSM club, I figured it would be okay.
I fluffed my hair out to accentuate my high cheekbones, pleased with my appearance. I wished myself some fire-engine red lipstick on my pouty lips, along with smoky eyeshadow. Oh yeah, I was al that and a bag of chips now. The dress fit me like a glove, doing justice to my size 4 figure that I no longer have to fight to keep. I thought I looked pretty hot.
It was time to get to work, and I readied to enter the biker club. Beauty, meet the Beasts.